


Goalposts

by electronic_elevator



Category: Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Desperation, Diapers, Dom/sub Undertones, Ethan is unaware of this, Friends to Friends with Benefits, Holding, Humiliation, Jeans Wetting, Mark's the one w the omo kink, Masturbation, Omorashi, Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsanitary, but only one chapter and it's skippable, dom!bottom!Ethan, getting caught, little a exhibitionism, nothing too intense roles wise but it's rare enough to advertise the details, sub!top!Mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22312342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electronic_elevator/pseuds/electronic_elevator
Summary: Mark, unbeknownst to Ethan, has been holding all day while the two ran some Unus Annus-related errands. He makes it home (barely) and admits he may have cut it too close, but thinks he's in the clear... until Ethan comes back in.//After that, Mark doesn't stop beingriskyand eventually Ethan catches on.
Relationships: Crankiplier, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 22
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

Mark had to pee. For the last several hours he’d been shopping around town with Ethan, getting props and other supplies for an upcoming Unus Annus project. He’d kept himself well-hydrated, carrying a water bottle from which he’d steadily sipped from, and when they stopped for lunch, he sucked down an entire soda. There had been several times he could have broken away and used the bathroom, including at the restaurant when Ethan went in himself, but he was in the sort of mood where he wanted to hold it. So, he did, his need growing with each passing hour until now, in the car on the way back home. 

Ethan was driving and Mark was trying very hard not to squirm in his seat. Or, rather, trying not to make his squirming obvious. His toes curled in his shoes and he adjusted his position every time Ethan seemed to be looking away, keeping his thighs pressed together. He’d let it get much worse than he ever would on a normal day at home, even while recording or otherwise busy, but it was making him feel just slightly electrified, a current of excitement running under his skin. Ethan didn’t know, and there was always the chance the relatively short drive would turn into something intolerably longer if traffic got bad or if Ethan suggested a last minute stop. Mark thought about how good it was going to feel when he finally let go, imagined for a second the feeling of warmth running down his legs and the rush that accompanies doing something taboo. But, that train of thought rapidly had him at the bring of leaking into his pants, and he had to cut off his fantasy and press his legs together even tighter. As exciting as it might be to think about, Mark did actually want to make it home. He rubbed his face to keep his hands busy, as the urge to hold himself was high, and tried to pull himself back to reality. 

Ethan was talking to him, anyway. He caught the end of the thought. “— since we probably got all we need for that video.”

“...What?” Mark said.

“Dude, weren’t you listening?”

“...Nnno. Sorry. I was distracted.” 

Ethan laughed. “I was just trying to confirm the recording schedule for tomorrow.” 

“Oh, right, right,” Mark said, and they ran over the particulars that Ethan had brought up before. The conversation was a welcome distraction, but Mark wasn’t able to fully focus in on it, tapping his fingers on the armrest and readjusting his legs more and more frequently. As they approached his house, he let out a shaky sigh. 

If Ethan noticed his squirming or the strained expression on his face, he didn’t say anything. 

At Mark’s house, Ethan offered to help carry in the purchases before heading back to his own place. They planned to be recording here tomorrow. 

When Mark stood up, he had to bite back a hiss. The effect of gravity had brought him from urgency to the brink, and he shivered with the intensity of the feeling. He nearly danced to the trunk of the car and grabbed half the bags, hoping Ethan would leave quickly so he could just go. Luckily, Ethan still hadn’t given him pause, and walked ahead. Mark tried a couple of normal steps, but the pressure and outright demand from his body to go almost had him moaning. He bit his lip, not wanting to reveal his desperation, and continued on carefully, praying Ethan wouldn’t turn around to see him leaned slightly forward and keeping his legs clamped together. If he stumbled or otherwise jostled himself too hard, he’d surely leak, but he also didn’t want to walk too slowly and have Ethan ask questions. The urgency was really crowding out Mark’s capacity for thinking all this through rationally. “You can just put it in the doorway. I’ll take care of it later.” His voice sounded strained even to himself. 

“I might as well take it back where we’ll be recording,” Ethan said, which was logical but sounded like extra time which translates to extra torture. 

A surge of need gripped Mark, and he had to stop, clenching every muscle to narrowly avoid leaking. This sudden stop caused rustling in the bags he was holding, and he caught Ethan turning towards him in time to straighten mostly back up before Ethan saw him. Mark feigned a smile. “Nice. I think we’ll get some good videos tomorrow. See you at 10 AM, right?” 

Ethan set his bags down, and Mark followed suit, aiming the pained expression he made at having to bend over at the floor. 

When he came back up, he leaked, hot and uncontrollable. Mark’s eyes went wide, breathing a silent gasp as he pulled himself back under control. It was small, and he was wearing dark jeans, so it couldn’t be visible. Right? When he looked up, he saw Ethan with a slightly suspicious look on his face. For a second, Mark was terrified, and realized he may have pushed himself too far today.

But Ethan still didn’t say anything, and headed for the door. “Yep. See you tomorrow!” 

Mark leaned on the table, fighting to make it just this last minute. He could feel himself shaking with the effort. “Yeah, bye Ethan!” 

The other man waved then left, closing the door behind him. Mark knew he shouldn’t, but he was home alone and the floors were easy enough to clean and he had to go so bad that he really wasn’t sure he’d make it all the way to the bathroom anyway, and his entire body screaming for relief was so much stronger than his common sense. So, with a glance around the house to make sure the windows were covered, Mark wiggled a little, spreading his feet just slightly, and after a moment of shifting gears from holding, started wetting himself. Knowing he was in the middle of an open room, that he didn’t even try to make it to the bathroom, made it all the more exciting. It felt amazing, and he gave himself over to the feeling. He let out a moan as he felt the heat drip down his legs, the feeling of release and relief coiling in his stomach to replace the draining pressure. It began to splatter onto the floor, and he felt his face grow hot with embarrassment and arousal. Mark looked down at the still-growing wet patches on his jeans and the widening puddle, and whined. Finally, he finished, the last trickles keeping his wet jeans warm. Mark was surprisingly tired, and he realized he had a hell of a lot of cleanup in front of him due to his impulse decision. Through the afterglow, he didn’t want to move, until he heard the door handle rattling and froze completely. 

To his absolute horror, the door swung back open, and Mark pivoted in his puddle to face Ethan, who was holding one more bag, and hadn’t seen him yet. “Hey wait Mark we forgot th— o-oh. Oh. I’m sorry.” As Ethan looked up and realized what he was seeing, his expression was one of pity, secondhand embarrassment, and maybe realization about Mark’s behavior earlier. Ethan’s cheeks were pink.

Mark was humiliated to his core and wearing that plain on his face. At the same time, he felt the arousing thrill of adrenaline he’d grown to associate with embarrassment, and knew he was getting hard, and hoped to god Ethan wouldn’t notice that on top of everything else. For a moment that felt like an eternity to both of them, they stood frozen, Mark with absolutely no idea what to say and Ethan with absolutely no idea what to do.

Ethan recovered first. He looked away, down at the ground and to the side. “Yeah, um, we… forgot this one more bag. I’ll just… leave it here. Yeah. I’ll… see you tomorrow..!” He glanced at Mark once or twice while he spoke, backing out of the house.

Mark, still stupefied, replied “…Yeah,” then after the door closed, “FUCK.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the inspiration for updating this one :D This is more an addendum to the last chapter than anything. The rest’ll go up in the next day or so. Also guess who’s mad this didn’t go up before the video they kinkshamed us in smh……
> 
> Also in light of that particular video, I guess it’s worth saying b/c I haven’t elsewhere on this account: I know and respect that Mark and Ethan are, y’know, real people — I don’t claim to “know them” at all. I know their online personas, to a certain extent, and I find those online personas hot, so I write about them doing things I also find hot! Even before they told us they find this stuff gross, I wasn’t claiming to be portraying (or trying to influence) their real personal lives. Further, I don’t want Mark and Ethan to see the stuff I write, because I don’t want to make them uncomfortable. But uhhh. Still gonna share it with y’all <3 please enjoy the fic and remember to keep your online and in-person promiscuous activities risk-aware and consensual :3c

Mark had been caught. He’d been too reckless, and Ethan had actually caught him.

Mark stood stock still until he heard Ethan’s car start up then drive away. By now, he was completely hard; his dick tented the wet fabric of his pants. It was absolutely a bad idea to jack off to the aftermath of getting caught by one of your best friends, but Mark was too aroused to talk himself out of it. He bit his lip to stifle a moan as he slipped a hand down to touch himself through the not-yet-cool fabric. He palmed himself once or twice before yanking open his fly and stroking himself properly. He moved quickly as he pictured the look on Ethan’s face: the knowing and the pity as he’d taken in the sight of Mark, soaked and blushing in the middle of the room. The memory tightened the coil of arousal building up and reignited the heat of shame still on his cheeks; Mark moaned again, rutting into his hand, quick and desperate. 

Ethan had no idea Mark had done it on purpose. He was probably thinking about it on the drive home, assuming Mark just _couldn’t_ hold it anymore and had wet himself uncontrollably just after Ethan left. And of course Ethan would’ve seen how embarrassed Mark had been to be caught. Mark thought about what he might’ve said. ‘No, Ethan, don’t look, please — I don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want you to think less of me.’ He couldn’t say anything that would clear his name, though — there was no question that he had wet himself when he’d been caught, still dripping, in a puddle of his own making. 

It was definitely more humiliating to Mark for Ethan to think that he’d had a “real” accident. At the same time, if Ethan had come back _again_ to see Mark like this, desperately jacking himself off in his pissed pants, he might realize the truth. He wouldn’t be pitying, then — he would probably be disgusted. Mark was so close, whining with need, about to cum all over himself and make himself even filthier. Ethan’s name dropped from his lips, broken and breathy. 

Mark’s thoughts stopped being particularly coherent as he spilled over the edge, eyes falling closed in the wave of pleasure and cumming in hard spurts into his existing mess. 

He stood for a few more seconds as his high faded, feeling unsteady after the experience. But he _really_ , definitely needed to clean up, now. And what about Ethan? Should he message him? What would he say? Deciding to deal with the easier problem first, he stripped out of his wet clothes, then used his dry shirt to sop up the majority of the puddle before depositing them in the washer, and showering quickly. 

Mark decided it was better to pretend it hadn’t been a big deal, and didn’t text Ethan. …Filming again tomorrow was going to be interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

But then, a few weeks later, Mark felt risky again. He had the irresistible urge to drink a bunch of water and deny himself the bathroom; the fact that they were filming for Unus Annus today only made it more tempting. So, he sipped water between videos while others took pee breaks. 

After a few hours of this, he was reaching the point where he had trouble staying still, a heavy weight and dull pressure in his abdomen prompting him to press his legs together where he sat. Somewhat surprisingly, it was making for good content — the adrenaline lent him a little extra spice for his banter, a little extra energy to his movements. 

While the need was certainly urgent, Mark didn’t want to stop just yet. He made the call that he could hold through the next video, too. They’d be moving outside, though, and as soon as he stood up it got much harder to hold. It would be harder to conceal his squirming, too, with no chair to press down into, and his whole body on camera. 

As they ran around in Mark’s backyard, he pretty much had to rely on willpower to keep himself under control; even pressing his legs together would be too obvious. But he was still doing alright, even though a couple of spasms of urgency had him biting his tongue and praying not to lose it. His waistband felt to be cutting into him; he no doubt had a bladder bulge, though it would be concealed by his shirt. 

Then Ethan said something ridiculous, and Mark was laughing so hard that he leaked, the sudden warmth making him gasp. He was able to stop himself after a second, thankfully, and converted the nervous energy back into laughter, hoping to cover the slip-up. 

But of course his friends caught it. “You good there, dude?” Ethan said, also laughing. 

“ _I’m_ fine; are _you_ okay? That didn’t make any fucking sense,” Mark deflected. 

He was much more careful for the next few minutes. He could feel the small spot of wetness against him. While no one else could tell, it was concrete proof of just how close he was to losing it, and he was notably more distracted until they wrapped up that video. He danced off practically instantaneously, explaining “I’ll be right back! Just gonna run to the bathroom quick.” 

His friends acknowledged his statement and, luckily, didn’t say anything more, so he was able to escape immediately to the bathroom. With relief in sight his desperation immediately peaked, and it was lucky he was out of view, because his hands shot to his crotch. Mark groaned, pressing his legs together, forcing himself to hesitate just a bit longer before squirming over to the toilet. 

As he fumbled with his fly, he had another idea. One more leak wouldn’t be seen, right? Once he was sure he was going to be able to switch to the toilet, he wiggled his legs apart and relaxed for just a fraction of a second. With a whimper, he pissed for just a second into his pants, cutting it off immediately after. Now he’d tempted his body; stopping wasn’t so easy. As he fumbled to aim at the toilet, the pain-pleasure of stopping mid-stream rolled through his body, curling his toes and making him whimper before he could let go again, blessedly emptying into the toilet.

When he’d finished, he checked to make sure the wet spot (which was quite large on his underwear) hadn’t soaked through his pants, and redressed himself. The admittedly uncomfortable, now-cold spot was evidence he’d barely made it, keeping a little embarrassed thrill in the pit of his stomach as he washed his hands before rejoining his friends, who were presumably none-the-wiser.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter with diapers; not in an ABDL way, in a “vehicle for humiliation” way. Mark-in-the-story isn’t really into them specifically. Nonetheless, if you wanna skip, this is your warning!

The diapers left from the geriatric simulator video had been left at Mark’s, since that’s where they filmed and, well, why would Ethan want them? For that matter, Mark wouldn’t, normally, but he’d gotten an idea for the leftovers.

For something a little different to get that sense of risk and embarrassment, he was gonna wear one during filming. He wasn’t gonna _use_ it or anything — not particularly his thing, and he didn’t trust them to actually work discretely, anyway — but the idea was enticing. Unlike holding, which everybody had to do sometimes, there was no plausible explanation for him to be wearing a diaper. And it would be on video forever — er, rather, for several months. Even though, hopefully, no one would be able to tell his ass was just a little fluffier and his legs kept just slightly further apart than a normal day, _Mark_ would know. So, after his workout, he put one on, regarding himself in the mirror. 

He’d have to be careful — if his shirt rode up or his pants rode down, his friends would see the cheap plastic, and he’d have explaining to do. (Explaining how, exactly, he hadn’t decided, and hoped it wouldn’t come to that.) Or, if they didn’t catch it but the camera did, his _viewers_ would see, and what would they think? (Realistically that was a worse case scenario, but in fantasy…) 

Mark pulled his pants up, then regarded himself again to make sure it wasn’t immediately obvious. He could tell, but only by looking closely, and no one else would be giving him such scrutiny. 

Hopefully. He supposed Unus Annus videos had gone weirder directions, but it wouldn’t be as fun if there wasn’t _some_ chance of being caught. 

Satisfied, he turned to leave the bathroom before the crinkling of the diaper stopped him. Mark blushed. It was a quiet sound, just audible in the otherwise-silent room. He took a few more experimental steps. There was no way a sound so quiet would be picked up on in the middle of a video when him and Ethan were both talking and screwing around, he decided, and continued out of the room. 

——

And, it wasn’t. The morning’s recording session had yielded a promising batch of the top-shelf cursed content that Unus Annus was known for. A time or two, Mark had moved a strange way and had been compelled to pull his shirt back down in what he hoped was a subtle way, but those were only close calls by the metric of paranoia. 

Now, they’d breaked for lunch, deciding on sandwiches. Mark pulled out some meats and cheeses, leaving them on the counter next to the bread before he turned back towards the fridge to get condiments. 

But then, as Ethan reached for plates and glasses, he asked innocently, “What’s that crinkling sound?”

Mark’s stomach flipped, and he paused to avoid stumbling at the accusation, looking back at Ethan. As casually as he could, he offered: “Hm? Oh, I think it’s my shorts. They’re made out of a weird material.” (They were not.)

Of course, saying that made Ethan turn to him, looking at the shorts in question as if to verify his claim. Mark forced himself to keep breathing normally, as if Ethan was not looking directly where he was secretly wearing a diaper, even as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“Oh, okay,” was all Ethan said, dropping the issue and turning away. Mark very quietly let out a sigh of relief, moving back to the fridge. …He was definitely going to change after lunch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *thinks about that member stream where we talked about left and right for 15 fucking minutes but still can’t figure out if Ethan is usually on Mark’s left or his right* 
> 
> …also oh my god this is the first sex scene I’ve written in millennia so be nice please. :pleading_face:

They were in Mark’s recording room. Today’s filming schedule included an internet-based video, and as had become almost more common than not when filming at Mark’s, Mark was doing a hold, again. And cutting it too close, again. Admittedly, he hadn’t meant to this time — he’d been just getting desperate when they wrapped up the last topic, and had been going to go, but Ethan had hardly paused in moving onto the next item on the docket. By now, that left him fighting the urge to squirm or hold himself. It was admittedly thrilling — he was on camera, on the verge of wetting himself. Not to mention that Ethan was about two feet to his left. 

Mark couldn’t help but shift his weight from foot-to-foot. The details of the movement would be lost on camera anyway, and he needed to do _some_ thing. He had to go so badly he wanted to be full-on potty dancing. He’d use the bathroom after this video… he just had to make it that long.

He was too distracted to notice Ethan watching him, noticing all the tell-tale desperate flags he was waving. 

At a lull in the video, Mark was caught completely off guard by Ethan asking, “Do you need to pee, dude? You know you can go, right? I can wait for you.” 

Mark’s face grew hot. He hoped he wasn’t flushed enough for Ethan to notice and tried to will the blush away. “Yeahh, sorry; I didn’t want to interrupt the video. Figured I’d go after,” he explained, not entirely lying. This was normal, this was excusable, right?

But he still didn’t move to leave, so after a beat, Ethan kept talking. “…This has been happening a lot lately, Mark. Are you sure you’re okay?” There was genuine concern in his voice. 

Mark felt a little bad that he’d actually worried Ethan. “Oh, yeah, totally,” Mark said, just slightly too high-pitched to be casual. The embarrassment of being called out meant he was definitely bright red, and he squirmed on the spot, thighs shifting together. 

“I don’t want to embarrass you, but… you know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

Mark’s mouth was dry. Ethan was being so nice, courteous and respectful in case Mark was having some kind of _problem._ ...It was more than Mark deserved. Ethan hadn’t asked to be a part of his weird games, and if he’d caught on, Mark had gone too far. 

…But, the roaring thrill of arousal Mark was trying to tamp down was undeniable. There was something _delectable_ about Ethan gently asking if he was having potty problems while he was minutes from wetting himself. But he _really_ needed to stop. He didn’t want to lose a good friend over being stupid and horny. “No, no, I promise, Ethan, it’s not like that.” Mark wondered if he looked at all convincing while blushing and unable to make eye contact, tense and squirming. 

“Okay, okay. I don’t want to pry,” Ethan said, then fiddled with something for a minute. 

Mark should’ve left, then, but honestly it didn’t even occur to him, not with everything that was on his mind. 

“…But you haven’t left yet,” Ethan pointed out, still poking at things on the desk. Still casually. Mark, feeling something resembling fear, was about to respond with ‘oh, duh,’ and leave immediately, but Ethan didn’t give him the chance as he continued: “Is it that you don’t _want_ to go?” 

Mark was left at a loss for words. Ethan had totally caught on — not just to the pattern, but to the purpose. 

“…If I was wrong, I think you would’ve told me to shut up and left to piss by now.” He left a beat, letting Mark do just that, but he got only an astonished look, so he asked: “Do you get off on it?” 

Well, fuck, there was no backing out now — at least not an out that Mark could think of. “…Yes,” Mark admitted.

“Just on holding it?” Ethan asked. 

Mark ran a hand through his hair to cover the fact that he was still squirming. If this were going to be an innocently curious conversation about kinks, Mark would much rather go pee first. “Holding it, wetting…” Mark trailed off, unsure how much Ethan wanted to hear. That, and admitting to getting off on holding while so obviously holding was making it hard to keep that arousal under control. 

“Getting caught?” 

“Errrm, well, the… threat of it,” Mark admitted. “Being on camera has the same effect.” 

“Oh, so like, exhibitionism?”

“Maybe. But, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dragged you into it; it wasn’t cool to be doing this without your consent.” The logical part of his brain was screaming that it still wasn’t cool, not when he was still holding. 

“Maybe… But you still haven’t gone to the bathroom. How bad do you have to go?” 

Admittedly, this was starting to sound like more than innocent curiosity. With Mark’s thoughts already in a dirty place, it was a short leap to think Ethan sounded _interested._ “Really bad. I’ve been holding all day,” he admitted. And as they talked, it was getting worse and worse. At this point he really was potty-dancing, subtle but full-body wiggles interspersed with shifting his weight from foot to foot, clutching his hands at his sides to fight the urge to hold himself. 

Ethan turned around, facing him directly. “I know. And I know how much water you drank. No wonder you’re squirming.”

Mark nearly whimpered. Ethan had nearly done a 180 from the cautious concern he had shown earlier, but the effect on Mark was nearly the same. 

Ethan continued, “So, that first day, when you pissed yourself. What was the story then?” 

“I cut it way too close; I almost lost it carrying in groceries. I’d really thought it was gonna happen in front of you, but I managed it. And then, I thought you were gone already…” Mark trailed off again. They both knew what had happened.

“Damn.” There was a beat of silence in which Mark fidgeted and Ethan stared him down. “That’s kind of hot.” 

So there it was — confirmation that they’d crossed over from the platonic into some strange new territory. Mark’s whole body felt on fire from the mix of excitement and humiliation.

“And,” Ethan continued, a smirk growing on his face. “It’s kind of hot that you’re using this as an excuse not to go, even though I know what you’re doing.” 

Mark swallowed hard. Kind of hot to Ethan was incredibly hot to Mark and if he didn’t have to piss so damn bad he’d be rock hard over it. 

“What do you say we keep filming? You said you didn’t want to interrupt, which is good, because we should really finish this video. You can hold it until we’re done, right?” His tone was teasing, just shy of patronizing, and Mark savored it. 

Mark thought about what he was proposing. Or, what he thought Ethan was proposing. And, he was 100% down for it. “Yeah, sure Ethan, no problem,” he said. 

“Oh, hmm, but your throat sounds dry, Mark. Why don’t you take a drink?” Ethan suggested, and so casually, before moving back to the computer and queuing up the next site. 

“Ah, good idea,” he said, and, like it had been a thoughtful comment and not a command he’d accepted, sipped his drink. Mark was kind of reeling. This was certainly not how he’d imagined Ethan would react.

They kept recording. Mark was compelled to keep sipping, which only had him getting more desperate. But now that Ethan knew, he only had to hide it from the camera, so he crossed his ankles, pressing his thighs together to provide some relief. But then Ethan stopped. 

“Come on, Mark,” he said, and it was condescending. “Can’t you hold it? You’re not going to piss yourself in the middle of recording, are you?” 

And they were — Ethan hadn’t bothered to stop the camera. It was dizzying but it was still with the air of normalcy that Mark replied with a scoff, “Of course not.” When he uncrossed his legs, a renewed surge of need hit him, forcing him to press his thighs together again immediately with a strangled groan. He was pretty sure he’d barely avoided leaking. 

Ethan was looking at him disapprovingly. “Looks like you might.” 

“I’m fine,” Mark insisted, resetting his posture once more and checking to make sure his face wasn’t too red on camera. He had to piss so bad that it was almost all he could think about, but he couldn’t make himself care that this would be a subpar video because of it. They were nearly done, at least.

With a little luck, Mark was able to finish out the recording without any more especially close calls, but not without squirming. He kept the shifting as subtle as he could, but thought he’d really wet himself if he stopped. 

Ethan shut off the camera. “We’re gonna have to edit that middle part out. We should probably do it now, so we don’t forget.” 

Well, there was a new idea: one of the editors seeing Ethan scold Mark for his visible desperation. He bit back another whimper at the thought. “Shit, you’re right. Let me,” Mark volunteered, against his body’s wishes. 

Now that the camera was off, Mark didn’t bother to hide his need, stepping and dancing on the spot as he popped out the memory card, chopping the video into two files and discarding the bit where Ethan had called Mark out for holding himself. Out of curiosity, Mark played the surrounding clip, and luckily it wasn’t obvious from the audience’s perspective before Ethan made him stop. But then, another spike of need hit him, and he whined, one hand shooting down to hold himself. 

“Is this worse than when you wet yourself the other day?” Ethan asked. 

“It’s… just about as bad. Maybe a little worse.” 

“Are you going to wet yourself now?” 

God, for all the water he drank, his mouth sure was dry. “Uh.” He didn’t want to do anything Ethan wasn’t comfortable with but Ethan sure sounded comfortable with it all. Ethan looked at him, curious and watching him squirm. Another wave of desperation hit, and Mark gasped, bending over slightly. This left him looking just slightly up at Ethan, red-faced and so clearly about to wet himself.

And Ethan was looking down at him. Physically, only slightly, but the look on his face was patronizing, contemptuous. “Come on, Mark, you can’t even hold your piss until we’re done recording?” 

“I thought I could make it,” Mark breathed, dancing on the spot as he tried to hold on. “If I left for the bathroom now, I could probably— make it,” he said.

“I bet that’s what you thought before, too.” 

“I did,” Mark said with a groan. “Eth, I can’t hold much longer,” he warned. This was pretty much the last second Ethan could call off whatever weird direction they’d been going in. But Mark didn’t want him to — he wanted Ethan to make him stay until he lost it.

“Tell me how bad you have to go.”

“I can’t stand still; my bladder feels like it’s gonna fucking burst. I can’t wait anymore,” Mark said, blushing. He wasn’t lying — to hold it now, he had both hands clutching his crotch and his legs crossed, bouncing slightly.

“Damn, Mark,” Ethan said, and he sounded almost reverent. Like he was watching something beautiful. If Mark could think about anything other than how close he was to wetting himself he would’ve been flattered — if also confused, having never expected Ethan to be into this. 

“Ethan,” Mark whimpered. 

“No, I know,” Ethan said, and the hint of admiration was gone, replaced with that degradation Mark wanted. “You can’t hold it. You’re gonna piss yourself any second now, in the middle of our recording day, in your own recording room, because you can’t control yourself. Right?” 

“Yeah— yeah,” Mark panted, and then felt himself leak, and gasped. “I’m leaking.”

“You’re really pissing yourself?” 

“No, I’ve — I can —“ He was trying to regain control but he was so close to the brink that he couldn’t keep it for more than a second or two, his tired muscles weak and spasming. He could already feel the wetness on his hands, and then after another spurt, a long streak down his leg. Against his will, he was eking out desperate little noises. 

“Doesn’t look like it,” Ethan commented.

Mark looked down at himself and the mess he was making. His face was on fire at letting Ethan see him like this. He was still trying to hold on even though it was clearly a lost cause; he was already soaked to his knees. “I can’t,” he finally whimpered, giving in and letting go.

The rest of his pants were soaked in seconds, piss soaking into the carpet below him. He moaned at the feeling of relief, unable to suppress it even though Ethan was watching. Mark hazarded a look up to him and found undeniable _arousal_ on his face. Mark shuddered at the mix of feelings coursing through him. 

Ethan was quiet, taking in the delightful scene of Mark dirtying himself. Mark’s stream trickled to a stop after more than a full minute to the sound of his soft panting gasps. “God, Mark, you really couldn’t hold it anymore, could you..?” 

“No,” Mark said back, his voice uncharacteristically timid. 

“ _Damn_ ,” Ethan cursed again. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” Mark answered, and then Ethan was on him with desperate, open mouthed kisses. After a few minutes, Ethan was grinding his hips into Mark’s despite the fact that he must be getting wet.

“Are we gonna—?” Mark asked, head spinning and filled with desire. 

“If you want to. _Fuck_ , Mark, I want this if you do,” Ethan said between kisses, seemingly unable to keep his hands off Mark. 

“God, yes, I do,” Mark confirmed, and upon hearing it Ethan wasted no time in reaching down for his fly. Mark, once he realized what Ethan was doing, moved to help, and in a moment Ethan was kicking his own jeans to the side of the wet patch on the floor. Mark paused in his struggle to get out of his own comparatively more difficult to remove pants to admire Ethan — his dick was hard against his stomach and the look on his face was full of lust, and all for Mark.

“Do you have lube?” Ethan asked, as Mark finally stepped free of his wet things.

“In my room. Come on, we can do this on the bed; I’ll have to do laundry, anyway, I can wash the sheets too.” 

They crossed over to his bedroom.

“Take off your shirt,” Ethan told him, and Mark complied, finding a very appreciative look on the other man’s face when he pulled it clear. “ _Goddamn_ , Mark, you’re gorgeous.”

Mark didn’t have time to preen under the compliment because Ethan advanced on him again, prompting him to lay back onto the bed. Ethan climbed up, too, straddling Mark as he pulled off his own shirt. “You’re not so bad yourself,” Mark said, blatantly staring at the man above him. Ethan leaned down for another kiss, both moaning into it as Ethan rocked his hips forward, the friction greater now that they were unclothed. 

“Fuck me,” Ethan breathed when he pulled back. He grasped for the bottle of lube, uncapping it and squirting some into his hands. He stroked up Mark’s length, drawing another low moan from him, as he prepped himself, quickly and efficiently working the fingers of his other hand into his ass. 

The sight was desperate enough, hot enough, that Mark had to do something, too. He reach forward for Ethan’s as-yet-neglected dick, stroking in tandem with Ethan on his own. Between Mark’s attention and Ethan's fingers scissoring his own ass, Ethan was making breathless little noises in seconds, bucking forward into Mark’s touch. But then, he stopped, placing his hand over Mark’s to get him to stop, as well. 

“No, I’m too close. I want you to fuck me,” he breathed. 

Mark held Ethan close, shivering from the temporary loss of touch and the anticipation of finally getting to fuck him, as Ethan lined them up. Slowly, carefully, Ethan sunk down onto him, making the most delicious gasps as he was filled up. Mark wanted to let him take his time but the sensation of Ethan around him was a lot to take and he couldn’t help but moan as he held still for Ethan.

“ _Fuck_ … you feel so good,” he told him. 

Ethan hummed in response, and Mark swore he could feel it through his dick, and god he just wanted to move. Ethan had him all the way now, was taking a second to adjust. Mark hadn’t realized Ethan been ready yet when he picked up before slamming back down, fucking himself on Mark’s dick. Mark moaned again, fucking into Ethan on the comedown, both of them leaning into the pleasure, chasing it from each other. 

“Mark, you’re perfect,” Ethan gasped, and Mark could feel him clench around him as he said it and whimpered.

Ethan reconnected their kiss, and kept up the pace for a few minutes. It wasn’t long before Mark was close, not after everything that had transpired. Ethan must’ve been as well as he said, “Cum with me, Mark; can you cum with me?” 

Mark nodded, rambling through the haze of pleasure: “God, just keep doing that Ethan, you’re so good to me.” 

And Ethan did, fucking down onto him in a way that drove Mark crazy. Both of them were moaning, clinging to the other like they were gold in a world of silver, and then Ethan hit his peak first, tensing through his orgasm enough to bring Mark along, Mark filling Ethan and Ethan spraying onto their chests with a breathless cry of Mark’s name. 

They looked at each other as they came down, Mark still inside Ethan, softening. “God, Mark, that was so good,” Ethan praised. Mark felt warm and fizzy and, looking up at him dazed, replied, “You’re telling me. I never thought you’d be into any of that.” Mark pulled out, and they were both filthy but fell weakly into a cuddle for a moment, catching their breath. 

“I think I’m just into you,” Ethan laughed.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Mark teased. After another minute closer to clarity post-orgasm, Mark realized they’d left his recording room a mess. “Jesus, though, we can’t just lay here; I pissed on the carpet,” he reminded Ethan with a blush. 

“Well maybe _you_ can’t stay here,” Ethan corrected, joking. “But no, I’ll help you. …Should we wash up first? I’m just realizing you’re kind of still covered in piss.” 

Mark felt his blush deepen. “Hey now, that was your call,” he said, defensive. 

“No, I know,” Ethan acquiesced. “It was really hot. We just, like, should get cleaned up now.”

The admission was enough to smooth over Mark’s feelings. “Oh, fuck, we’re cutting into our recording time, aren’t we?” 

Ethan laughed fondly. “I guess we are.”

Mark sat up, the first to break the close cuddle they’d fallen into. “Damn. If you don’t mind, I’ll hop in the shower quick; you can hop in while I clean up the mess I made.” 

“Sounds fine to me,” Ethan agreed, remaining mostly boneless on Mark’s bed.

So Mark hopped up, quickly getting clean so he could get to the recording room before it stained or something, and so that Ethan didn’t have to stay dirty for too long. 

After they were both clean and the laundry got going, they rejoined in Mark’s room. There were a few seconds of awkward silence. 

“So, uh…” Mark started, but then couldn’t help but start giggling. Ethan joined him, and the tension diffused.

“Yeah, okay, maybe we should discuss that? Before we jump back into recording?” Ethan suggested, guessing at Mark’s intentions. 

“Yeah. Look, I’m okay with it. I’m okay with just being whatever, if you are.” 

“Great, actually,” Ethan agreed. “So, just friends, but maybe do that again sometime?” 

“Yeah,” Mark confirmed, and then they were both laughing, whether it from lingering post-orgasm endorphins or the absurdity of going from friends to friends-with-benefits over a couple of hours and a full bladder. But things felt good.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on twitter @electroelevator (18+ only, of course...) <3 leave a comment to let me know what you thought?


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